Chapter 218: I NEED TO FEEL YOU
Abigail
"Who is this Owen Smith?" Benjamin inquired.
I slipped off to my room, then came back with my phone to show pictures of the documents I had taken.
"He worked with my parents. Dad had messaged him that he was quitting. If we can find him, then he’s our best lead."
Benjamin nodded. "Send that picture to me. I’ll reach out through official channels on my end."
After a few more questions, Benjamin left, but the uneasiness in my chest only grew worse. Gina Wolfe had a hand in what happened to my parents.
Did that mean she knew who I was and had also been trying to get rid of me? The evidence didn’t exactly prove that Devin killed my parents, but it showed that he could have.
Dinner that evening was quite nice. It felt like a breather from all the ruckus that had happened so far. Finnegan kept treating me like I was made of glass and practically fed me like a little toddler.
Not that I was complaining, I didn’t exactly mind being doted on by my man. After dinner, Finnegan insisted on helping me take a bath and carried me to his room. His bathroom had a bigger bathtub.
He set me down on the bed, then strode to the bathroom to run a bath. I watched him from the bed. He was wearing dark pants and a fitted tank top that clung to his broad chest.
He looked so strong, so sexy. My body ached, the bruises on my face and ribs throbbing, but they weren’t the only thing throbbing. His sheets were so soft, thick with his scent, and with a sigh, I burrowed my face deeper into them.
"Abby?" he called, walking back into the room.
I lifted my head and patted the space next to me on the bed.
"Come on, baby," he murmured, reaching for me. "The bath is ready. It’ll help with the soreness."
I shook my head, catching his hand instead and tugging him down onto the bed beside me. "I don’t want to get up yet. I just... I need you close."
He hesitated, his gaze sweeping over the bruises mottling my skin. "Abigail, you need to rest. You’re hurt."
"I am resting," I whispered, drawing him closer. "With you."
His resolve crumbled, and he slid in next to me, his large body curling around mine. I gave a soft sigh when his arm draped over my waist, his hand settling possessively on my stomach.
I could feel the beat of his heart against my back, the warmth of his breath fanning over the sensitive skin of my neck.
"This is nice."
"Hmm," he hummed. "It is... How are you feeling?"
"Much better," I replied, then rolled my hips against him, pressing my ass back against the growing bulge in his trousers. I felt him harden instantly, a thick, rigid shaft nudging my ass through the fabric.
"Abigail," he rumbled. "Don’t even think about it. You need to rest."
I turned my head, capturing his lips in a deep, searching kiss. He groaned into my mouth, his fingers flexing over my belly.
The kiss was soft at first, but it quickly turned hungry, needy. Our tongues slid together as our breaths mingled. I could taste the faint hint of red wine from dinner on his tongue, feel the slight rasp of his stubble against my chin, and gosh, I loved hearing the low sound he made as he slowly lost control.
His scent filled my lungs, making my head spin. I wanted to be connected to him. To remind myself that we were together, despite everything trying to tear us apart.
I reached behind me, pressing my hand firmly against his hard length, palming him through his trousers.
"I need this," I whispered against his lips. "I need you. Please, Finnegan. I need to feel you."
He cursed softly, a ragged, broken sound tearing from his lips. His hand slid under my sleep shirt, his warm, calloused palm cupping my breast. His thumb brushed over my nipple, back and forth, until it pebbled and ached. I moaned into his mouth, grinding back against him harder.
He broke the kiss, his forehead dropping to rest against my shoulder, his breathing harsh and uneven.
"You’re going to be the death of me," he rasped, but his hips rolled forward, pressing his hard cock against my ass.
I pushed my panties down, grinding my ass back against him eagerly while he freed himself from his trousers.
"Oh yes, yes," I moaned, nodding when the thick, hot head of his cock nudged against my slick cunt.
He slid in slowly, inch by excruciating inch, spooning me tightly. The stretch was divine, a slow, deep burn as he filled me, until he was buried to the hilt.
"Fuck," he groaned, the sound muffled against my neck.
One arm wrapped lightly around my throat while his other hand slid down my body, his long fingers finding my clit, circling it slowly.
He began moving, giving slow, deep rolls of his hips that made me gasp. Each stroke struck deep inside me, fanning the flames of desire in my belly.
His lips trailed to my neck and shoulder, pressing open-mouthed kisses, sucking gently as he whispered and groaned against my skin.
"God, baby," he groaned, his voice thick with emotion. "I almost lost you today. Don’t ever do that to me again. Don’t ever leave me."
I moaned, pushing back to meet his thrusts, my hand covering his on my clit, rubbing hard, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my veins.
"Finnegan," I whimpered when he pinched down on my bundle of nerves, driving me closer to the edge as he thrust deeper, fucking my cunt.
His scent filled my head, his ragged breaths had my walls clenching around him, my body arching back against him as the pleasure washed over me.
He groaned, burying his face in my neck as he came, his hips grinding gently as he pumped me full of his cum.
I smiled up at him, licking my lips. "So... how about that bath?"
Finnegan chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest and into my back, leaving me all fuzzy. "Now you want to bathe?"
"Only if you’ll join me," I teased, squeezing my walls tighter around him.
